


Unlikely Circumstances

by magequisition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magequisition/pseuds/magequisition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Benny seem unlikely to be friends, but have been since childhood. When Benny finds out that Dean's still carrying a torch for the once-new kid in school, can he push his best friend towards happiness, or will Dean try to stay in the shadows forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlikely Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allofspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofspace/gifts).



> Some minor homophobic bullying and language in the first chapter.

**10 Years Ago**

 

Dean peered over the fence, watching as the moving truck backed in to the driveway across the street. Two large men climbed out of the front and as they opened the back, a small blue car pulled up and parked in front of the house. As Dean watched, a family climbed out. His interest rose as he saw a boy close to his own age climb out of the back seat.

“Benny,” he heard the woman (the mother, he guessed) say. “Stay in the yard and play, okay? I'll let you know when I'm ready for you to unpack your things in your room.”

The boy nodded. “Okay, mama!” He said. The parents led the movers inside, and Dean, shootin a look back towards his own house, unlocked the gate and ran across the street.

“Hi,” he said. “I'm Dean.”

“Benny,” the boy said. “I just moved here with my parents from Louisiana.”

“Is that why you talk kind of weird?” Dean asked.

Benny laughed. “Me? You're the one talkin' funny. But yeah, I guess so. How old are you?”

“I'm seven,” Dean said. “How old're you?”

“I'm eight. Guess I'm older'n you. I'm startin' grade four in September!” Benny beamed proudly.

“Yeah, I'm starting grade three. Wanna play?” Dean offered. “I've got a soccer ball and stuff in my yard. I just live over there,” he said, pointing across the street.

“Yeah! Let me go ask my mama first.” Benny turned towards the front door and shouted, “Mama, can I go play with the boy across the street? He's got a soccer ball!” Dean heard a muffled shout from inside the house and then Benny shut the door, grinning widely.

“She says it's okay. Let's go!” The two boys dashed across the street, laughing.

 

**Present Day**

 

“Hey Dean! Still comin' over this weekend?” Dean's head snapped up as he heard the familiar drawl from across the corridor.

“Yeah, Benny, of course I am. I mean, come on man, am I really going to miss Call of Duty night?” he laughed.

“Great, see you tomorrow then, brother. Oh! Mama wants to know if you're comin' for dinner?” Despite having been out of Louisiana for ten years, Benny still maintained a lot of his southern speech habits.

“Yeah, sounds good. I could stand to get out of the house a little more than usual this weekend,” Dean said casually. He knew Benny would realise that meant his dad was in another downswing.

“Bring your brother if you want, Sam's always welcome,” Benny said. “I gotta run, brother. Got practice in ten.” Dean nodded and lifted a hand to wave goodbye to his friend, who missed it since he was surrounded by his friends and teammates, laughing in a loud group. Dean turned back to his locker and slammed it shut. He knew that they made an odd pair of friends. Benny was captain of the soccer team, extremely popular, with girls and guys both lining up to go out with him (he wasn't interested in the guys, but they lined up hopefully regardless). Dean, on the other hand, was fairly introverted, and that combined with the way he dressed (jeans, plaid, and leather) and his car (a '67 Impala he'd gotten from his dad when he turned 16) had people thinking he was a bad boy. As a result, he didn't have many friends, save for his little brother Sam and Benny. Sam was a freshman, although he was already so tall that people thought he was Dean's age. Dean didn't really care, though. He figured it was better for people to be mildly scared of him than to find out he was actually a straight-A student and huge Star Trek fan who spent a lot of time online. He really didn't need to gain a reputation for being a nerd. He picked up his backpack from the floor beside his locker and lifted it over his shoulder, turning around. He felt his bag collide with something as he turned and there was a crash beside him. He spun more quickly and saw a shock of dark hair scrambling to pick up scattered textbooks and papers.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” Dean said. The dark head looked up and Dean was suddenly faced with a set of wide blue eyes.

Castiel Milton. He'd transferred to their school the previous year, and Dean had been interested almost immediately. He was shorter than Dean, though not by much, lean, with messy black hair that made his eyes stand out more than they really should. Like Dean, he was quiet, although he lacked the aloofness to make him seem rebellious and instead was unabashed in his nerdiness. This, combined with the fact that Castiel was one of the few openly gay students at school, meant he was pushed around some – although behind the scenes, Benny always made sure it never got too bad – and if anyone ever said anything negative about Castiel being gay, Benny was always the first to stand up for him. Dean wasn't closeted, exactly, but since nobody at school ever took the time to get to know him, none of them (besides Benny, of course) knew he was gay as well. He was grateful for that, despite all their differences, his best friend had never turned his back on him or judged him, even after he'd come out two years before.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Castiel stammered as he crawled along the floor quickly, trying to gather his papers.

“No, it was my fault,” Dean said. He bent down to help Castiel with his things. He scooped up the papers that were closest to him and passed them to Castiel. Their fingers brushed and Dean felt his breath catch in his throat at the contact. When everything was picked up, Dean mumbled, “Um, see you around, I guess.”

But Castiel was already gone, having scurried off immediately after standing. Dean sighed and leaned back against his locker. In the slightly more than a year Castiel had been going to the school, Dean was fairly sure the interaction they'd just had was the longest one to ever occur between them. He wasn't sure if Castiel even knew who he was, although if he did, Dean was sure he had the same impression of him that everyone else in the school did – that he was some mindless rebel without a care in the world. Dean kicked sharply backwards, his heel crashing against the locker, before pushing off to head to the parking lot. It didn't help that everyone knew who his father was. John Winchester, of Winchester Motors. Formerly a great mechanic, now a part-time mechanic and full-time drunk. John's best friend Bobby, who Dean and his brother referred to as their uncle despite there being no actual blood relation, had moved in with them four years prior. He'd come just after the death of Dean's mother Mary to help run the shop and in time, had fully taken over the running of the business. Dean knew that everyone in school expected him to go down the same path his father had, but Dean hoped for more than a life of alcohol for himself, if only so that he could take proper care of his brother once he was eighteen and give Bobby a break.

He reached his car quickly and tossed his bag in the trunk before climbing in and driving to the garage. He worked part time after school, helping Bobby with the cars and usually getting stuck with the more menial tasks that none of the licensed mechanics wanted, like washing the cars and sweeping. He didn't mind, though: he was naturally talented with the cars, and Bobby had already promised him full-time work after he graduated if he wanted. Dean had given up on the idea of college shortly after his dad's problems had started, thinking it was more important to stay at home to be there for Sam. He'd wanted to drop out of high school and start work at the garage immediately, but Bobby wasn't having any of that.

_No idjit nephew of mine's droppin' out of high school when there's absolutely no reason for it, kid. Now do your math._

Dean smiled at the memory of Bobby's words as he drove to the garage. Part of him had been relieved that he didn't have to drop out since he actually didn't mind school. Well, parts of it. He liked math and science, but he hated writing essays for English. He pulled around to the back of the garage and parked, climbing out and heading inside.

“Hey, Uncle Bobby,” he said as he entered. “What've you got for me today?”

“Bit different work today, nothin' you can't handle though. Ash called in sick. I need you to run all the computer diagnostics and stuff. You know I'm useless with that crap.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He didn't mind working with the computers, but he much preferred working directly with the cars and getting dirty. “Yeah, okay. I guess I don't need coveralls today then, huh?” Bobby shook his head and waved Dean upstairs to where the computers were, already hurrying to the next car he needed to work on.

*****

Ten minutes before the shop closed, the phone rang. Since Dean was sitting right next to it and probably had the cleanest hands in the place, he picked it up.

“Winchester Motors,” he said.

“Uh, hello. There's something wrong with my vehicle. It's making an odd noise when I start it. Would I be able to bring it in so somebody could look at it?” The low voice on the other end of the phone was familiar.

“Well, we're about to close up for the day, but you could come in tomorrow morning. We've got an opening at ten or an opening at noon,” Dean said as he flipped through the appointment book and found the next day's listings.

“I'll come at ten.”

“Sounds great. Can I just get your name, please?” Dean asked, pen ready to write down the appointment.

“Castiel. Uh, Milton. Castiel Milton,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

Dean's heart jumped into his throat. “Castiel. Okay. We'll, uh, see you tomorrow morning then, Castiel. Thanks for calling Winchester Motors.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, hanging up the phone. Dean hung up the phone slowly, his heart beating quickly. He was scheduled to work the next morning, before he went over to Benny's house. He swallowed hard and pressed a few buttons on the computer to shut it down before heading downstairs to the main floor of the garage.

*****

The next morning, things were hectic from the time the garage opened at 9:00. When Castiel pulled in at 9:55 to drop off his car, Dean ran over to the reception desk to check him in. When the other boy arrived in front of the desk with his keys, he stopped suddenly, looking at Dean in shock.

“Hi, welcome to Winchester Motors. You're Castiel, right?” Dean asked, trying not to seem like he knew exactly who Castiel was.

“Yes. You go to my school. You're the one who knocked me over yesterday,” Castiel said matter of factly.

Dean swallowed. “Yeah, guilty as charged. Sorry about that, man, really. I didn't mean to.”

Castiel nodded before a hint of a smile came to his face and he chuckled.

“What's so funny?” Dean asked, a grin coming to his own face. He didn't think he'd ever seen the usually-serious Castiel smile before, let alone laugh.

“You've got oil or something on your cheek,” Castiel said. He started to reach towards Dean, as if to wipe it off, but Dean froze and stepped back slightly, scrubbing at his own cheek with the back of his hand.

“Uh, you don't want to get your hands or clothes all dirty,” Dean said quickly, noting the dark blue sweater vest over the white shirt Castiel was wearing. The small smile Castiel had been wearing dropped from his face at Dean's tension.

“I wasn't hitting on you, you know,” Castiel said tersely. “When can I pick up my car?”

Dean swallowed. “Uh, I'm not sure. We'll give you a call when it's ready. Do you need a ride anywhere?” he asked.

Castiel shook his head. “My house isn't far. I can walk.”

“Okay. And I mean, for what it's worth...I didn't think you were, you know...” he trailed off weakly.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said. Disbelief was evident in his voice as he turned and left the garage. Dean leaned heavily against the desk, Castiel's car keys still in his hand.

Great. So now in addition to probably thinking Dean was an idiot, he also thought Dean was homophobic. If Dean didn't have a chance before, he was definitely out of luck now.

The rest of the day passed impossibly quickly. Castiel's car was finished fairly soon, but Dean managed to avoid being the one to call him or the one to check him out. With what Castiel must have thought of him, Dean was too embarrassed to face him. He clocked out at four, shouting a reminder to Bobby that he wouldn't be home when Bobby got there because he was going to Benny's place, and that he'd just be across the street if he or Sam needed anything. Dean washed his hands thoroughly and changed out of his work coveralls into a more comfortable jeans and flannel shirt combination before leaving the garage and driving home. He parked his car in the driveway and grabbed his backpack from the trunk before crossing the street and opening Benny's front door. Benny's mother had made it very clear to him years before that he was to consider their home his own, and knocking was out of the question especially if he was expected.

“Hey, Benny,” he called. “I'm here.”

“Howdy, brother,” Benny's voice drifted down from upstairs. “In my room. C'mon up.” Dean kicked off his shoes and followed the familiar path upstairs to Benny's room. He flopped down on the floor in front of Benny's bed and leaned back against it.

“Mama got called in to work at the hospital and Dad's out of town, but she left us money for pizza, so whenever you're hungry we can call,” Benny said.

“Awesome,” Dean said.

Benny's eyes narrowed. “What's up with you?” he asked suspiciously.

“What? Me? Nothing, Benny. You wanna play, or what?” he asked, grabbing the controller beside him.

“Cut the crap, Winchester, I know you better'n that. Something's buggin' you. You meet a guy or somethin'? Someone harrassin' you?” Dean knew that Benny knew he wasn't prone to harassment. He might have been an outcast, but seeing as how that was due to a great majority of people being afraid of him (for no reason that Dean could figure out), they usually left him alone.

Dean swallowed. “There might be a guy. But...it's pointless. He thinks I'm an idiot and/or an asshole, so I'm just trying to move on.”

“Dean, nobody thinks that,” Benny said. Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, okay, but people don't know you like I do, brother. Who's this guy? What happened?”

Dean groaned. “Benny, I really don't want to talk about this.”

“Yeah, well, too bad for you brother. It's been ages since you've been into anyone, since you got over that new kid last year, and I wanna know.”

Dean's face flushed bright red. “Uh, about that...” he said slowly.

Benny's jaw dropped. “You're not tellin' me you're still holdin' a torch for that Castiel kid?” he asked incredulously. “I mean I guess I'm not surprised, he's just your type, but damn, Dean, I thought you gave up on him ages ago.”

“I told you I didn't want to talk about it,” Dean muttered. “It's embarrassing, okay? And then today he brought his car into the garage and I had oil on my cheek and he laughed and it was really fucking adorable and he reached over to wipe it off and I froze up and he thought I was being a fucking homophobe because of course nobody at school knows I'm gay because nobody cares enough to ask and god DAMN it Benny, if I'd had the slightest chance before – and I'm still not convinced he knew who I was before I crashed into him yesterday – I sure as hell don't now. So there. Now that I've gone all damn girly and spilled my feelings, can we PLEASE shoot something in this damn game? I'm a little wound up.”

*****

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Dean ended up spending Saturday night at Benny's house, passing out on his bedroom floor when he didn't feel like going home, a spare pillow and blanket tossed down to him from Benny's bed. He went home on Sunday morning stiff and sore, but feeling calmer than he had when he'd arrived at Benny's house the afternoon before. He spent the day in his room, doing his homework and hanging out with Sam. Dean knew Sam could tell something wasn't quite right, the kid was almost scary-intuitive, but luckily that same intuition kept him from asking about it. He knew that Dean would just clock him over the head and tell him to mind his own damn business. So they kept it simple, talking about school, the garage, and whether or not Dean had kicked Benny's ass at video games the night before (Dean said yes, Sam said Benny was ten times as good at them as Dean was). Dean fell asleep that night feeling a lot more relaxed than he had the day before.

When Dean got to school on Monday morning, he found a commotion in front of his locker. Castiel was sitting on the floor in the middle of the corridor – again – scooting back towards the side where Dean's locker was, and Benny was across the hall, shoving one of his teammates.

“Back off, Gordon,” Benny said evenly. “Leave the kid alone.”

“Got a soft spot for the geeky little homo, Lafitte?” Gordon spat. Before anyone knew what was happening, the senior was on the floor.

“Shut your damn mouth, Gordon.” Benny said, shaking his hand to relieve the slight pain in his hand from where his fist had collided with Gordon's cheekbone. “I hear you makin' comments like that one more time and I'll make sure you're off the team, got it?” he said threateningly. “Ain't none of your business where the kid likes to put his junk, ain't none of mine neither. He ain't hurtin' anyone. Now get the hell outta here before I decide I ain't done hittin' you.” Gordon scrambled up and took off down the hall. Benny turned to Castiel and extended a hand. “Sorry 'bout that idiot, kid. I do hope you won't paint us all with the same brush. He ain't gonna bother you again.” Castiel took the offered hand and Benny pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Cas mumbled, staring at his feet.

“No problem. I gotta run, you gonna be okay?” Castiel nodded. “Keep your head up, kid. Swear to ya, it's gonna get better.” Benny winked at Cas as he watched Dean standing nearby, watching their exchange. “Hey, Dean,” he said, lifting his hand in a wave before moving quickly away. Castiel turned quickly towards Dean, his shoulders sinking.

“Hi, Cas...I mean, Castiel,” Dean said slowly.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said quietly. “Uh, I should go.” He started to turn, but Dean reached out and grabbed his arm quickly.

“Wait,” he said.

Castiel spun around. “Let. Go. Of. Me.” His voice was dark. Dean released him immediately. “I've had enough garbage spewed at me for one Monday morning, Winchester. I don't need any more.”

“Castiel, please. Let me talk for just a minute?” He hated the pleading note in his voice, but it seemed to soften Castiel slightly; his arm relaxed at his side.

“I have to get to class,” Castiel said.

“I just wanted to apologise for what happened at the garage on Saturday. We had a misunderstanding. I wasn't afraid you were hitting on me. I just wasn't expecting to be touched. I'm a little jumpy sometimes. Sorry to have freaked you out. I hope you can forgive me.” He turned away from Castiel before the other boy could reply and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction, towards his first period English class.

He could feel Castiel's eyes on him until he turned the corner at the end of the hall.

*****

At lunch that day, Dean was sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria, as per usual. He flipped through his biology textbook slowly as he ate his sandwich. His head shot up when a shadow fell over the pages.

“Is it all right if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”

“Oh. Castiel. Um. Hi,” Dean stammered. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said quietly, pulling out the chair across from Dean's and taking a thermos out of his backpack. Dean turned his attention back to his textbook, but he could feel Castiel's eyes on him as he ate.

“Benny, the boy who stood up for me today, is your friend,” Castiel said suddenly. It wasn't a question.

“Yeah. My best friend. Has been for years,” Dean confirmed. “Why?”

“He's nice,” Castiel said. “He's always kept the other soccer players from being too cruel to me. You're not like him.” Dean's eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, I don't mean to say that you're not nice,” Castiel said quickly, obviously realising how he sounded. “I apologise. I've been told I'm not good with people. I mean that you aren't a jock, or popular. You seem to be alone much of the time.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, guess so. I like it that way. Less drama.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“People say you're bad. You don't seem bad. It's lunchtime, and you're studying.”

Dean shrugged again. “Whatever. I don't need people.”

“Oh,” Castiel said quietly. He didn't speak again, and the two ate in silence until the bell rang signalling the end of the lunch period. Castiel placed his thermos carefully back into his bag and picked it up, walking away from the table without a word.

This time, it was Dean staring as Castiel walked out of sight.

*****

The week passed quickly and soon it was Saturday again. Dean was working his morning shift at the garage when he suddenly saw a familiar frame outside the front windows.

“Bobby! I'm taking my lunch break!” he shouted, tossing down the pen he'd been scribbling some repair details with down and going out the front door of the garage. He slowed down as he exited the building, suddenly unsure what he planned to do.

“Hi Cas,” he said slowly, trying to gauge what Castiel's reaction would be to the nickname.

“Oh, hello Dean,” was all Castiel said in response.

“Your car doing okay?”

“Yes, it's running well now, your shop does an excellent job, thank you,” Castiel replied.

“Well, it's not my shop, really...but, you're, y'know, welcome.” They were quiet for a minute, staring at each other. “Hey, Cas?” Dean said, taking a deep breath. Castiel tilted his head at him curiously. “I don't do this. Like, ever. But d'you wanna, I dunno, get a coffee or something?”

“I prefer tea,” Castiel said. “But I suppose they can generally be bought at the same place.”

Dean blinked, not completely certain what Castiel was saying. “So...do you wanna?” he asked.

“Oh, I didn't make that clear. Yes, Dean. I will go with you somewhere. When would you like to go?” Castiel asked in that strangely formal tone of his.

“Uh. Well I work until two. We could go after that, or tomorrow if that's better.”

“I will meet you here at two o'clock.” Castiel said. “Goodbye, Dean.” And just like that, he had wandered off. Dean stared at his back in shock. He wasn't totally sure, but he was pretty sure he'd just successfully asked his crush out on a date. He stumbled back into the garage, trying to wipe what he was sure was a dopey grin off his face as he moved.

*****

The end of Dean's shift rolled around quickly. He yanked off his coveralls and pulled on the clean clothes he'd brought with him after quickly washing his hands and face. He ran a careful hand through his hair and left the garage, taking a deep breath. When he got outside, Castiel wasn't there. Dean sighed and leaned against the wall of the garage.

“And this is why I don't ask people out...” he mumbled to himself, kicking his foot backwards against the wall. “Damn it! I knew it was too good to be true.” He ran a hand over his face before pushing off against the wall and turning to leave, running headlong into Castiel as he turned.

“Hello Dean. Is everything all right?” he asked casually, as though Dean hadn't just plowed into him.

“Cas!” Dean said, startled. “Hey, man. I, uh, thought you weren't gonna make it.”

“I apologise. I went home to change my clothes and I got tied up with something. I hope you weren't waiting long.”

“No, not long, I, uh, had to change and stuff too before I came out, so I was a few minutes late myself.” They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither sure what to say.

“Should we go, then?” Castiel said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah. Yeah, let's go. Good idea,” Dean replied. They started walking to the nearby coffee shop, still not speaking but feeling somewhat less awkward with it now. When they got to the cafe, they approached the counter.

“Uh, a medium hazelnut mocha for me, please, and whatever he's getting,” Dean said, tilting his head towards Cas.

“You don't have to, Dean,” Cas started to say.

“I want to,” Dean said.

Cas bit his lip, a small smile curving the corners of his lips as he ordered his tea. Dean was too transfixed on that small smile to hear a word of what Cas ordered, or the cashier telling him his total. Cas poked him lightly in the arm and he jumped, turning back to face the counter again.

“Uh, sorry. How much?” he asked, flushing slightly.

“$7.24,” she said, grinning at him knowingly. He pulled out a ten dollar bill and thrust it at her, accepting his change and shoving it into his wallet before moving with Cas to the end of the bar where they would pick up their drinks. They were ready shortly, and the two boys picked up their cups and found an empty table towards the back of the cafe.

“So, uh, seen any good movies lately?” Dean asked, suddenly unsure what to say. He realised he knew very little about the guy he'd been pining after for a year and a half.

“Not really. Although I'm quite looking forward to the new Star Trek film being released this year,” Castiel said shyly.

“No way! Me too!” Dean said excitedly as he started talking quickly about the trailer, cast, and spoilers he'd seen on the internet. When he noticed Castiel looking at him with a kind of amused stare, he stopped suddenly, blushing. “What?” he asked, looking down at his cup with a smile on his face.

“Nothing. I didn't think you were that much of a Star Trek fan. It's...” Castiel trailed off for a minute. “It's cute.”

Dean blushed brighter. “Hey. I am not cute. I am...rugged. Manly. Dangerous,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Castiel. “Haven't you heard? I'm bad.”

Castiel laughed, his head falling back. “Yeah, okay, Dean. I believe you. You're Mr. Manly. Mr. Badass. Mr. I-probably-have-a-phaser-at-home.”

Dean was grinning broadly now, proud that he'd brought a rare laugh out of the normally-quiet boy in front of him. “It's a tricorder, if you must know,” he said jokingly.

Castiel slowed his laughter and looked at Dean with a smile still on his face. “You're...not what I expected,” he said slowly.

“What did you expect?” Dean asked.

“I don't know. Not...this. Not you. Nobody's this attractive AND likes Star Trek AND actually spares a second for me...and might actually be gay.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself lately?” Dean said incredulously. “You're fucking gorgeous. And yes, I'm gay. I'm not exactly in the closet, but since nobody talks to me, nobody at school really knows, either.”

Castiel blushed, looking down at his coffee cup as he fiddled with it. “You think I'm attractive?” he asked quietly.

“Have you seen yourself?” Dean repeated his earlier question. “Yes, I think you're attractive. Have since you transferred to our school. I just figured you didn't know who I was, or if you did, I figured you thought the same of me that everyone else does, that I was some idiot.” He shrugged. “I'm just used to people seeing me that way.”

“I noticed you,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean took a deep breath. “Hey Cas? Can I ask you something?”

“I believe you just did. But yes, you may ask me something else,” Castiel answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. “How come you were at the garage today?”

The blush on Castiel's cheeks deepened and he bit his lip. “Benny told me you were working. I thought I'd come and see you but I was embarrassed since I didn't actually have a reason to be here. I was just leaving when you saw me.”

Dean's stomach flipped. Castiel had been in contact with Benny...about _him._ He'd gone out of his way to come to the garage... _to see him._ “Remind me to thank Benny,” he said quietly.

They talked for a long time. When the sun started to go down, Castiel glanced out the window with regret before saying, “I should probably start home.”

“Can I walk you?” Dean asked before he knew what he was saying.

That small smile that Dean was already crazy about came to Cas' face again. “I'd like that.”

They stood up and cleared away their empty cups, leaving the shop. Castiel only lived a five minute walk from the cafe, and it was over more quickly than either of them cared to admit. When they arrived at Castiel's house, a sprawling rancher, they stopped in front of the door.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Cas,” Dean said.

“Thanks for inviting me. And for the tea,” Castiel replied.

“Hey, it was nothing.”

“It certainly was something,” Castiel said. He stepped towards Dean, staring him directly in the eyes in that focused way he had for a moment. Before Dean knew what was happening, Castiel had leaned forward and kissed him squarely on the lips before disappearing inside the house. Dean blinked rapidly, his fingertips coming to his lips and drifting over them lightly.

“Holy shit,” he said softly.  


End file.
